How to Love You
by Someone's Princess
Summary: You can't change your own timeline, but you can change another's. That's what Hermione thought as she made her way back to the 1930s. Hermione finds herself raising a young Tom Riddle, and does everything in her power to prevent the future she knew. However, time is unpredictably predictable. (rated M for MUCH later chapters)
1. Riddle

Chapter One: Riddle

* * *

He dragged his fingers lightly through the mess of honey brown waves that spilled onto the bed sheets around the girl's head. To him, the softness of the frizz never ceased to amaze him. The young wizard pulled strands away from the face of the witch beside him before slowly lowering himself to place a kiss on her forehead.

"I'll see you soon, Princess," the dark-haired wizard whispered into the witch's ear.

**BOOM**!

Smoke and the scent of burning wood permeated the room, followed by a shout. "_STUPEFY_!"

With a lazy flick of his wand, the dark wizard deflected the spell, never pulling his gaze from the woman before him.

"Riddle, what have you done?!" the voice shouted angrily, seeing the brunette lying tucked beneath white sheets.

"I did what needed to be done," Riddle answered, "Plain and simple."

With one last caress of the woman's cheek, the dark lord vanished into a black wisp.


	2. Orphanage

Chapter Two: Orphanage

* * *

The sun's rays leaked through the moth-bitten holes of the window's thin drapes. The young girl had already gotten dressed for the day and was quietly reading on the edge of her bed.

From her window, Hermione could see the metal letters intertwined with the design of the gate archway.

_Wool's Orphanage._

The orphanage was well-maintained and Hermione was able to get the essentials, but what it lacked was a warmth that she missed from her Hogwarts days. Every wall was made of the same dark, cold tiles. Metal bars blocked the windows in order to keep the orphans from running away. It felt more like a prison than a home for children.

It had been a few weeks since she arrived and Hermione had fallen into a routine. Her life had become a rotation of sleep, meals, and books. Lessons were rarely given, but Hermione kept her mind fresh by reading and rereading through the few classics that the orphanage's library had to offer. Sometimes, she would even read a book to some of the younger children, if they were willing to sit still long enough to listen.

Of all the children, only one child came back time and time again.

Tom Riddle.

He would sit on a nearby chair in the parlor, holding the same novel, but whenever Hermione read aloud, Tom would hold the book open to the same page, forgetting to turn it as he feigned indifference to her stories.

Hermione found that keeping an eye on him was simple because Tom was keeping an eye on her, as well.

* * *

_The boy was sitting at the top of the staircase, staring down at young Hermione in the entrance as she spoke to Mrs. Cole about possible housing. Tom looked as he did in the pictures she had seen of him. He was small, dark-haired, and ghostly pale._

_"It's best not to speak to him. Tom is a strange boy, not only in the way he acts, but also in the things he speaks about. The boy has a wild imagination, he does."_

_By the time Hermione turned to look at the boy on the top of the staircase, he was gone. "You don't say..."_

* * *

_"And over here is the kitchen. You will be placed into the rotation for cooking and serving food. We find that it's important to give all of the children some responsibility over the house. Over there is..."_

_As Mrs. Cole gave the tour of the orphanage, Hermione couldn't help but wander in her mind. Her goal was clear, but her mission was not. Find Tom Riddle and prevent him from becoming The Dark Lord._

_Hermione was incapable of murdering an innocent child, even knowing his potential future. There was still a year or two before he would leave for Hogwarts, and in that time, Hermione would come up with a plan that didn't involve killing the young boy._

_Mrs. Cole stopped at the bottom of the stairs and gave Hermione a light pat on the shoulder. "I hope you find this home comfortable and wish you the best of luck in finding a family. If you have questions, you can ask one of the other children."_

_Hermione smiled back. Finding a family was the last thing on her mind. Mrs. Cole walked away to check on some of the orphans in the garden, leaving Hermione to explore the rest of the building on her own._

_Upstairs was a hallway lined with identical doors made of the same dark shade of wood. The rooms were numbered in descending order. Ten... Nine... Eight..._

_Seven._

_Hermione pushed open the door and stepped inside. It was as dull and lifeless as the rest of the orphanage. The room was large enough to contain a bed, a desk, and a cupboard, but not much more. There was nothing to unpack. When you time-travel though an impossible amount of time, bringing a suitcase is the last thing on your mind._

_In the cupboard, Hermione found a gray tunic that was worn, but clean. She slipped off her dirty sweater to reveal a blouse stained red. Over her stomach, blood began to soak into the fabric where Hermione had been cut by a curse. Short on supplies, the Gryffindor tie she wore became a temporary bandage. This will have to do for now, Hermione thought grimly. She pulled on the gray top and went in search of a first-aid kit._

_From what Hermione had seen, the orphanage contained more boys than girls. Girls were probably more desirable, Hermione reasoned. She wondered if there were any other girls left. The boys that she passed were fairly young and most were prepubescent. As she passed through the hallway, many of them peered at her from inside their rooms. The stares were all ignored._

_Upon the walls were mostly landscapes of fields. None of them were portraits, and none of them moved._

_As Hermione was distracted, a boy who was a bit taller stepped in front of her, causing her to crash into him._

_"Oh, sorry," Hermione apologized quickly. "I-I didn't see you."_

_The boy smirked and stood over her. "Well, you're a new, pretty face," he said smoothly. "We don't get many orphans our age here. It's just my luck that someone like you would come along. We should stick together."_

_"Is that so?" Hermione commented moreso than asked. "Well, I'm not really here to make friends."_

_She stepped to the side to pass him, but he moved an arm out to block her path. "Love, it gets lonely here. I think you'll find your stay more enjoyable if you spend your time with me."_

_It had not been the first time that Hermione had attracted unwanted attention, albeit it was still rare. The witch forced another smile and pushed his arm out of the way. "No, thank you," she replied as she walked away._

* * *

Hermione was brought out of her thoughts by a book snapping shut. Tom rose from his seat and tucked the book beneath his arm. Without an explicit audience, Hermione had been sitting in silence as Tom waited for her to start.

He didn't say a word, but he would be back tomorrow. Hermione was sure of it.


	3. Snakes

Chapter Three: Snakes

* * *

As Hermione walked down the corridor, she caught bits and pieces of conversations.

"-down the stairs. He just-"

"I saw it with my own eyes."

"Freak."

Ms. Cole was out of the orphanage and as the oldest female, Hermione was expected to care for the other children. There was paperwork to be done and bills to be paid at the hospital for one of the children.

Not even a full day before, a boy had fallen down the stairs and sustained a great deal of injury. Luckily, there were children in the room next to the stairs and screams reached Mrs. Cole quickly. A car was called for and the boy was rushed to the closest hospital immediately.

Hermione had been in her room at the time. Legs pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around, she sat staring at the wall. There was one quick knock before Mrs. Cole barged in.

"Hermione!" she yelled, "There's been an accident and I need you to watch the children while I'm gone. You must hurry!"

Mrs. Cole pulled Hermione's arm frantically until they were both in front of the gate. "The other children are all in a panic. Calm them down, give them dinner, and send them off to bed. I'll be back later tonight."

As Mrs. Cole got into the backseat with the unconscious boy, Hermione was able to catch a glimpse of the victim.

Aaron.

It was the boy that Hermione had the misfortune to meet her first day. There had been other encounters since then. Unpleasant was not the right word to describe them.

The driver pulled away from the orphanage, and Hermione watched the car until it was out of sight. With a deep breath, Hermione returned inside to deal with the other orphans.

Mrs. Cole didn't return that night. Aaron's injuries were more severe than they had suspected previously, and she stayed to answer police questions about the accident. Hermione did as she was told and sent the children off to bed with their stomachs filled. One orphan, however, could not be found.

Tom was missing from dinner the night before, and when Hermione called the children for breakfast, he was not in his bedroom. Lunch was approaching and Hermione was determined to find him this time.

"Peter!" Hermione called out to a blonde boy passing by, "Have you seen Tom?"

The boy named Peter flinched at the name. His eyes avoided Hermione's as she looked down at him. "H-he w-was outs-s-side, I t-think," the boy stuttered nervously.

"Thank you," Hermione said softy before turning to check the garden. Nearly a month she had been there and without a need for careful observations, it was clear to Hermione that Tom held a sort of power over the other children. The other orphans, like Peter, were extremely wary whenever Tom had been around. Even strangers to the orphanage, such as potential parents, steered clear of the mysterious boy. Finding Tom a home had proven difficult for Mrs. Cole.

As Hermione approached the garden, she could hear a strange whisper. Careful not to reveal herself, Hermione peered around the door frame. Fortunately for Hermione, Tom had his back to the door, so she crept a little closer.

The whispers she thought she heard were actually words of a language she had only heard Harry speak.

_Parseltongue_.

Tom was crouching on the ground by some dying rose bushes, conversing in the dark language with someone Hermione could not see. She took this opportunity to slip in closer to kneel behind a stone bench. Honestly, it felt more silly than anything to Hermione. For years, with Harry and Ron, she faced greater dangers and tougher spy missions, and here she was, worried that she'd be caught by a 10-year-old boy.

The low hissing stopped and Hermione instantly froze.

"I know you're there."

The voice was low for a boy his age. Hermione attributed it to the melancholy darkness that Tom always seemed to carry around. He never smiled and hardly ever spoke to the other children.

The young witch had decided to reveal herself by standing, but something curled itself on her leg. Hermione stifled a shriek as she tried to remember whether the black diamond patterns meant harmless. Or venomous.

She took slow breaths, careful not to move in fear of being striked. A shadow fell over her, and Hermione looked up to find Tom standing beside the bench. Surprised, she struck the back of her head against the cool stone and gave the slightest wince of pain.

"What do you want?" Tom asked, arms crossed and standing impatiently as he awaited a response. The snake slithered further, tugging on Hermione's sock as it made its way up.

Even if she were to have gotten bitten by the snake, Hermione was a witch and had spent enough time in the Hospital Wing volunteering with Madam Pomfrey to know a few spells to counteract poisons. With her Gryffindor courage, Hermione carefully lifted up the snake with both hands and placed it on the ground beside her before standing up and brushing off her skirt.

"Hello, Tom," Hermione tried to say amicably. "We missed you at dinner and breakfast and so I wanted to make sure you were eating."

Tom was watching the snake beside Hermione's leg. It looked at Tom and then at Hermione before circling behind Tom. "How did you know it wasn't venomous?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "I didn't. Is he your friend?" she asked quickly after answering, crouching down to greet the snake peering out from behind the boy. "Does he have a name?"

Tom looked surprised at Hermione's question. "Yes," he answered cautiously, "It's Morsus."

"Morsus," Hermione repeated slowly, trying out the name, "Is this where you run off to all the time? The garden to see Morsus?" She could sense a shift in Tom's posture to one of defensiveness.

"The others know not to come out here," he responded with annoyance.

Hermione nodded her head. "I see. Well, I'm still fairly new here and didn't know." Tom didn't say anything, so she hummed quietly to herself as she stared at the black serpent curled a few feet away. A few minutes of silence passed.

"They're all saying I did it," Tom stated abruptly. Hermione didn't bother to pretend as if she didn't know to what he was referring.

"Not everyone," she said softly, looking up at him. "Now, let's go get something to eat."

Hermione began to move past Tom, but when he didn't follow, she stopped. Tom stood there, shifting from one leg to the other. The perceptive girl could sense the conflict in Tom's face. He was probably hungry, but too stubborn to follow her inside.

She laughed to herself. It was never a struggle to get Harry and Ron to the Great Hall for meals. Often, it was the other way around, with Hermione chained to the library and the boys having to drag her away from her books. Out of her jacket pocket, Hermione pulled a shiny apple.

"Here," the young woman said, holding out the fruit, "I took it from the kitchen before I went to look for you. All yours."

When Tom didn't move to take it, Hermione took his hand and placed the apple in it. He still stood there silently, but held onto the gift.

"I promised some of the other children that I would read to them during lunch," Hermione casually lied. It was the carrot on the stick that Hermione hoped would lead Tom to come to the dining room.

With a small wave, Hermione walked backwards towards the orphanage. "Bye, Tom!" she called cheerily. Tom watched as the girl disappeared from view. For a few moments, he shuffled back and forth. Morsus slithered over Tom's feet.

Looking down at his companion, Tom muttered, "She's... different."


	4. Thomas

Chapter Four: Thomas

* * *

"Hermione! There you are!" a dark-haired boy called out from the edge of the narrow passageway.

The witch looked up from her books and parchment and gave a horrified look of realization. "I was just on my way to meet you, I swear."

She shut the book and began shoving her things into her book bag. As Hermione grabbed the parchment she was writing on, the sudden movement knocked over the uncapped bottle of ink. The contents spilled across the table, making the young man chuckle.

"My essay!" Hermione shrieked.

"Shhhh," several students hushed from nearby tables. Embarrassed and extremely frustrated, Hermione picked up the parchment and let the ink drip off. "No, no, no," Hermione repeated to herself softly.

The wizard held his wand up to the ink-stained paper and pulled it away gently. With it, the ink was drawn away, leaving behing the words written in Hermione's writing.

"Nonverbal magic," the boy replied smugly. Filled with glee, Hermione grabbed the boy and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. She held the parchment up to admire the work. The grin on her face, however, fell once she saw the words added to her Arithmancy essay.

"Thomas!" Hermione yelled angrily, hitting the boy on the shoulder to emphasize her annoyance with him. "Take these notes off right now!"

"What notes?" the accused asked innocently. Hermione held the parchment up to the boy's face. In scrawled letters that looked unlike Hermione's own, across the page, in many places, it read: _Wrong_. Above the equations that Hermione had written, there were different equations and answers.

"Your theory was all wrong," he stated bluntly. "You used the wrong formula in your calculations and I fixed it. I suggest starting fresh. It'll be easier than trying to adjust your essay to fit the correct results."

Hermione balled her hands into fists. If the library weren't such sacred grounds for her, Hermione would have surely punched him.

"Infuriating," Hermione growled through clenched teeth, "You, Thomas, are absolutely infuriating."

The young wizard gave a slight frown. "If anyone should be upset, it should be me. I was the one who was stood up for our meeting on the Potions assignment."

Hermione stood with her hands on her hips. She opened her mouth to say something when a girl passing by called out, "Eli, we're late for practice!"

"Shoot, Ravenclaw's got the Quidditch pitch today. I have to leave now. We'll talk about the assignment later, yeah?" The young man grabbed his books off of the table and waved goodbye. "See you at dinner, Hermione." Hermione waved back.

Looking down at her essay, Hermione gave a small smile. It was December and it was a little over two months since she arrived at Hogwarts for her 7th year. Her "transfer" was not announced, and her sorting was done privately.

Ravenclaw.

It seemed fitting. Hermione had always felt that she would have done best in Ravenclaw. At first, it was unclear to her why the Sorting Hat had placed her in Gryffindor, but after her first few years, Hermione realized that it was her encounter with Harry that made her unconsciously want to protect him. The Sorting Hat recognized Hermione's brilliance, but it also considered her selflessness.

Although Hermione would often joke about it, it really was her intelligence that got the Golden Trio out of a lot of their messes, but without Harry, there was no need for her to go back to Gryffindor. This was a chance for her to see what could've happened had she pushed for Ravenclaw.

Then she had met Eli Thomas, a boy whose intelligence pushed Hermione to try harder in her classes. He was the brightest of his year, a title that Hermione, in her time, had owned. Not only was he the top of his class, but Eli was also Head Boy and captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. It baffled even Hermione that he was able to accomplish all this at once.

Eli approached Hermione first. As Head Boy and as a member of the Ravenclaw house, Eli was assigned the task of getting Hermione acquainted with the school. Hermione had to pretend she hadn't spent 6 years roaming the hallways of Hogwarts already. The school was far from being new, but it was fresher than the Hogwarts she knew. The books she had worn out from reading, she'd have to wear out again.

Being in Ravenclaw could not erase Hermione's memories of the warm, Gryffindor common room. There were no pranks by the twins, no giggling girls, and no crowds cheering over a game of wizard's chess. Hermione found the Ravenclaw Tower to be too quiet for her liking. So, she often went to the library.

On her frequent trips to the library, Hermione often ran into Eli.

* * *

_Hermione reached up to get a book from a tall shelf. She was on the tip of her toes, but the book was just slightly out of reach. As Hermione lowered herself to rest her feet, the book she was looking for floated down into her hands._

"_There you go," someone said from behind her. His voice was pleasant and reminiscent of someone she knew. Hermione looked up to find a tall boy with sandy blonde hair smiling at her._

"_Thanks," Hermione replied. She shifted the large book in her arms nervously._

"_Eli," the boy had said, "Eli Thomas."_

_It hadn't been that long since Hermione had last seen him. He had brought her on the tour of Hogwarts not two weeks before. They shared multiple classes together and often ate meals at the same time at the same table._

"_I know. We've met before."_

_The wizard didn't seem offput by Hermione's attitude. "How are you adjusting to Hogwarts?" he asked, optimistic for conversation._

"_It's been lovely."_

_Eli didn't seem to believe Hermione. She hadn't made any friends, focused too much on her studies, and was overly preoccupied with the ongoings of the Slytherin house._

"_Is that the book you're using for your research?" the boy asked with a slight scoff._

_Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Should it not be? The class text cites this book quite often."_

"_Mmhmm," the Head Boy murmured. He snapped his fingers and a brown book came flying off the shelf. "This is what you're really looking for."_

"_Magical Algorithms: Purposes and Properties," Hermione read aloud. The book looked and felt a lot thinner than the other textbook. The binding was still fairly tight, as if it were rarely touched._

"_It's just more compact. Dense," Eli began, "But I don't think someone like you will have a hard time reading it."_

_Hermione took it as a compliment. It was flattering in a way Hermione wasn't used to. She couldn't find words, so she stood there shyly._

"_It's good," the wizard reassured. "I've read it a few times over the summer break. It'd be... nice to have someone to discuss it with."_

* * *

For Eli and Hermione, this was an offer of friendship that Hermione accepted by accepting the book. Their discussion of Arithmancy spilled over into other subjects and soon, the pair were inseparable study partners. They were almost equal in intelligence and drive. At times, Eli would abuse his Head Boy status to stay late in the Ravenclaw common room with Hermione to go over an essay or class notes.

It was a strange friendship, especially in that era. For a young man and a young woman to spend as much time together as they did, rumors were bound to spread.

Hermione is bethrothed to Eli. Hermione used a love potion to seduce Eli. Hermione transferred to Hogwarts to be with Eli. The rumors were all alike.

It was similar to Hermione's time, in a way. Having two best friends who were boys was sometimes an annoyance. Girls would constantly ask Hermione if she was dating Harry or Ron, or if not, who she'd pick if she were held at wandpoint and had to decide on one.

In a way, her companionship with Eli was different. Unlike Harry and Ron, Eli could hold his grounds in a conversation. He had ideas and the knowledge to back it up. Hermione didn't dare say it out loud, but she found herself open to the possibility that she was attracted to him.

Months with Eli, however, also meant months away from Tom, and months away from her mission. Her days at Hogwarts had been so normal that she had forgotten why she was at Hogwarts decades before her time.

* * *

_November 29, 1938_

_I saw her today. She was with him, the Head Boy, in the library again. They argued but laughed before he had to run off, leaving her behind to study by herself. Quidditch is a waste of time and energy better spent on studies._

_I could hear her repeating phrases aloud to herself, as she seemed to do when she found something frustrating to understand in her books. I was situated in the aisle nearby and everyone had gone to dinner, leaving the library to be in nearly complete silence aside from the turning of the pages and her murmurs._

_I found myself missing the days in which she would read to us at the orphanage. Soon, I must return there for the holidays. Her presence will make it more tolerable._


	5. Break

Chapter Five: Break

* * *

_Christmas Eve, 1938_

He was back at Wool's.

Tom dragged his small trunk off of the Hogwarts Express and walked straight back to the orphanage, ignoring all the happy reunions that occured on the platform. He hadn't seen Hermione the entire ride back and the walk from the station. It irked him to think that she was with that Thomas boy.

When Tom arrived, he was greeted with the quick down-turn of smiles at the sight of him. The other children scurried away. Even the new faces he had never seen before were aware of the stories of Tom Riddle.

Mrs. Cole peeked her head out from the kitchen, a scared, little girl peeked her head out from behind Mrs. Cole. "Welcome back, Tom," the caretaker of the orphans said, wiping her hands on her apron. "We weren't expecting you back today."

Tom moved forward up the steps without a look in her direction. His trunk clunked behind him on every step to his room. He paused as he passed Hermione's room, standing in the doorway to listen for any sign of her presence. There was none.

Once Tom was in his room, he left his trunk, still packed, by the door, and he sat down on his bed. The window had a clear view of the gate entrance. White snow was building upon the iron bars, creating a broken wall that blocked the view of the passerbys in the street.

Someone was watching him. Tom could sense it. It was a lingering feeling that followed him to Hogwarts and back. He hadn't told anyone, in the event that it was just in his head. Sometimes, Tom would look outside and expect someone to be looking back.

Hogwarts didn't feel like his home, but it was a step up from the orphanage. Hogwarts had a vast collection of books and feasts for every meal. He was comfortable enough.

The one thing he missed was the fear.

Being at Hogwarts was different. They didn't know about the things he had done. Having his wand helped to keep his magic in check, and knowing that there were now laws, that was enough to keep him lashing out at the other orphans.

The constant was Hermione.

Knowing that she was at Hogwarts with him made Tom feel a bit more at ease. Like him, she was from a non-magical orphanage, and she was new to Hogwarts. They both shared a love of learning.

Tom studied hard. He spent all his time in the library, catching up on all the things a wizard should know. Never before had he felt inferior in intelligence to others. There were things he didn't understand, words he didn't know. Muggles. Pureblood. Grindelwald.

He couldn't get enough. He had to know more. Every book he picked up, he committed to memory. Hogwarts' library held texts about any topic he was interested in. He had formed a good relationship with the librarian, Madam Morse, and if there was a book he needed, she would get it for him. The library was as much of a home to Tom as it was to Hermione.

Now in the Muggle world, Tom didn't have his books. He didn't have the money to buy his own books from Diagon Alley and instead resorted to borrowing from the library. The books could be taken from the library, but never outside of Hogwarts.

Tom had grown bored of the books in the orphanage's small collection of books that it called a library. After the books he had read at Hogwarts, Muggle books were too dull to bother with.

He resigned to staring out the window.

It was dark outside, but he could see her bright red coat against the white ground. Her pink cheeks were framed by her annoyingly frizzy, brown hair. The young witch carried nothing but a small beaded purse and a smile on her face.

From his seat, Tom waited. He could hear Mrs. Cole greeting Hermione in the same manner she did him only moments before. Hermione greeted her back cheerfully and asked if Tom had returned yet. After Mrs. Cole's response, Hermione bade her and the other orphans downstairs goodnight.

Tom could hear her light footsteps, accompanied by beautiful humming. He wondered if she had actually cared if he were back. He wondered if she had waited or looked for him at the station. He wondered what made her so happy. It was not jealousy that bothered him, but rather not knowing that did.

It was late and time for bed. Tom had had enough of wondering. He slipped under the thin covers and closed his eyes. The soft howl of the wind through the courtyard trees quickly put him to sleep.

* * *

_Christmas, 1938_

"Hermione, you look so pretty," a young red-headed girl gushed, looking at the teen with eyes of pure adoration.

Tom silently agreed with Anne. She did look pretty. It was Christmas and Hermione had put on a simple white dress that hugged her body modestly until it flared out at the waist, ending just above her knees. Tom wasn't old enough to be attracted to her in that way, but he was old enough to know what the standards of beauty were.

The compliment made Hermione smile at the 6-year-old girl in the second-hand blue dress. "Thank you, Anne, you look beautiful, as well."

There was a small party being thrown at the orphanage. There wasn't a tree and there weren't presents, but the children had all dressed their best and Mrs. Cole spent a little extra on the dinner for that night.

Hermione didn't want to bring suspicion by creating a large celebration out of "thin air" but she also didn't want the children to go without a Christmas they deserved. Instead, Hermione transfigured some items that wouldn't be missed into Christmas crackers filled with small little toys and paper crowns. She told Mrs. Cole that a friend from Hogwarts had sent her a box to share with the other children.

A friend did owl a present. He sent a small white owl with a modest-sized box and note. Hermione looked down at the gleaming piece of polished silver that encircled her wrist. There were light carvings of constellations and sweeping curls. The note read: _Counting the days. -E_

POP!

Hermione whipped her head to the right, expecting a new person in the room. A pair of boys had pulled a cracker apart close to her ear, and the noise had triggered in her a learned response. She came from a world where apparition was a popular method of travel by those both good and evil, but Hermione forgot that she wasn't in that world anymore. The witch gave a weak smile.

Beyond the boys, Tom sat in an armchair in the corner of the room. He looked out the window at the sidewalk, as if he were expecting someone. Someone was watching. Tom couldn't get the thought out of his head. It kept prodding his consciousness.

"Happy Christmas, Tom." The boy looked up to find Hermione standing with a metallic cracker held out. "Would you like to help me open this?"

"I guess..." Tom said hesitantly. He grabbed one end as Hermione held the other.

"3.. 2... 1..." Hermione counted. Both pulled and the toy exploded with a pop. Out of the cracker fell a folded piece of paper. Seeing as Tom didn't care for what it was, Hermione picked it up and unfolded the tissue paper crown. There was already a red crown on her head, so Hermione placed this green one on Tom's.

"My Lord."

Hermione gasped quietly when she heard the voice from behind her. Anne's knees were bent and her dress was held out in her hands. She gave the older girl a smile and curtsied again. "My Lady."

A small smile was forced out. "You surprised me, Anne. Oh, I mean, Your Majesty." Hermione made an elegant sweeping motion of her dress and bowed slightly. "I'm talking to Tom right now. Could you please go on ahead and save us some dessert? I heard the pudding is the best the orphanage has ever had."

"Lord Tom," Anne corrected. Hermione reached out to brush the girl's hair. "Lord Tom," Hermione repeated. Another curtsy and Anne was off to eat some pudding with the other orphans before she would bring them their share.

"It sounds weird," Tom said quietly.

Hermione tried to laugh off the comment. "It does a bit, doesn't it?"

In less than a decade's time, Tom would torture those who dared to call him by anything other than Lord Voldemort.

"I was looking for you at the platform," Hermione started, "When I didn't see you there, I asked around and someone said you had already left. I'm glad you got back safely. I meant to check on you, but I didn't want to wake you last night."

Tom looked down. "I wasn't aware we were meeting."

"Ahh, I know, but I just thought it'd be nice to walk back together. I haven't seen you very much around school."

Although Tom was facing the window, Hermione could see his sneer in the reflection. It reminded her of a young Draco. "I've been around."

The air was tense, Hermione could tell. Tom seemed to be crossed with her, and she didn't understand why. "Yes, that must be true. What I meant to say was that I know it's tough to be in an unfamiliar situation, and I was hoping we could be a familiar face for one another."

"It's also your first year," Tom commented.

"Ahh, yes, but I've been around," Hermione whispered the next word, "_magic_ for quite some time. For you, it's like being thrown into another universe where everything you thought you knew was wrong."

Tom huffed a bit. "I've been doing just _fine _on my own."

"The point is that you don't have to do it alone, Tom. I'm here if you ever need help," Hermione replied.

"I don't think your help will be necessary."

Hermione sighed. "Regardless. Happy Christmas, Tom."

When she left, Tom watched her out of the corner of his eye. When she was out of sight, Tom sighed. Why was she so persistent in being kind to him? She should avoid him.

* * *

_Days later..._

For the second time that year, a car brought a resident of Wool's Orphanage to the hospital. Mrs. Cole, red-faced, grabbed the dark-haired boy's arm and dragged him down the hall. This time, she was sure that it was his doing.

* * *

Tom had been locked in his room for nearly three days now. Not one person had passed through his doorway, something Hermione didn't realize until she overheard two boys downstairs arguing whether Tom had died in his room.

Red pigtails bounced by. "Anne," Hermione called out. "Can I ask you a question?"

* * *

As Tom sat staring at the picture by his desk, he sensed magic from the far wall of his small room. His eyes narrowed at the empty wall expectantly.

Through the dark tiles, a pale hand slowly appeared to slip out of the wall. Tom gripped the back of his chair in disbelief as he watched Hermione slowly step through. She stepped into Tom's room for the first time. It was brighter than what she had seen in Dumbledore's memory, but still gray.

"Hello, Tom."

The boy didn't say a word as he stared at the spot in the wall Hermione phased through.

"I came to see how you were. I heard about what happened from Anne, but I also wanted to hear it from you," Hermione explained. The boy ignored her, hoping that she'd leave soon. For her, there was no gain to being there, he reasoned to himself.

It was difficult to tell whether the punishment was fitting. Tom had been locked inside his room for days without food. He was held captive by a simple lock on a wooden door. There was no way of getting to anyone or anywhere. The bathroom was down the hall, and Tom couldn't leave his bedroom. Hermione noted that he didn't even have the decency of having a chamber pot in this situation.

"Scourgify." The boy's face turned red as he realized that Hermione recognized the stench from the corner where he had chosen to relieve himself. He cast his eyes down. He was humiliated worst than he had ever been before in his life.

Hermione pulled an apple from her pocket and held it out. "Here, Tom. You must be hungry."

Tom looked at the apple with a sneer. He was hungry, but he'd never admit such a weakness. His silent treatment continued. "Are you sorry for what you've done?" Hermione's voice was of genuine inquiry. Was Tom already on his way to becoming the Dark Lord?

Tom's expression didn't change. He remained firm in his stance, his belief. Hermione didn't need to hear the answer to know. "Tom," Hermione started firmly, "There are rules. You must know that."

He mumbled something Hermione couldn't hear. As Hermione approached, his voice grew louder. "THEY KILLED HIM!"

It wasn't hard for Hermione to conclude the "him" to which Tom referred. The only person Tom had at the orphanage was his dear friend. "Morsus?"

"They thought he was dangerous and they killed him. Morsus never bothered anyone. He never even came out of hiding unless I called for him. Those idiots sought him out and threw rocks at him until-" Tom couldn't finish his sentence.

She hesitated, trying to find the right words to use with the boy in front of her. Those boys had killed Tom's only friend at the orphanage. The snake truly was harmless. Hermione had done research on it to determine whether she should brew an antidote in the event that Tom used it against herself or one of the other orphans. The snake's death was sad, but it didn't excuse what Tom did. Hermione frowned. "An eye for an eye never works, Tom. You can't just punish others like that."

The wooden chair clattered on the hard floor. "WHY CAN'T I?" Tom shouted, now standing. "They deserved it, every last one of them."

His boyish face was aged by his desire to grow up quickly to escape this place. He was mature beyond his years. Hermione could see it in his tired eyes. Tears refused to escape, but the emotions were there.

Without thinking, Hermione reached out her arms and pulled the boy into a hug. He stood unmovingly, not sure what to do. "Oh, Tom."

Tom flinched slightly as her fingers stroked his hair soothingly, as a mother would for her son.

"Revenge leaves no room for forgiveness," Hermione started, "Everyone deserves a chance to try and fix their mistakes."

"They deserved it," the boy murmured against her wool sweater. He repeated it quietly to himself until it lost meaning. Hermione rubbed circles on Tom's back until his body relaxed and the anger he had been holding onto melted into mournful tears over the one companion he had. "He didn't deserve it."

"You were angry, and rightfully so. You made a mistake, but your mistakes don't make you a bad person. I don't think you're a bad person."

Tom didn't know how to respond, and so he didn't. Hermione began to hum softly and she rocked Tom slightly. The tired boy began to drift off. In the distance, the clock alerted him of the new day. "It's a new year, Tom. It's a new year and you can start with a new slate. Please, be a good boy."

The next morning, Tom found his door to be unlocked. During the night, Hermione had slipped away to talk to Mrs. Cole. She begged for Tom to be forgiven and made promises to keep him out of trouble. If Tom were to be found guilty of terrorizing the other children again, he and Hermione would be thrown out into the street. Luckily, they did not return to the orphanage for some time.

The apple Hermione brought was still sitting on the table. He took a bite of it and smiled at how sweet it was.

* * *

_Somewhere down the line..._

Voldemort returned to do what he promised himself he would do. He was no longer held back by anything. The older woman crying out on the floor of the orphanage was proof of that.

Tom held his wand over her body and Mrs. Cole once again thrashed about on the floor of the living room, screaming under the Cruciatus curse. The few orphans that were in the living room when Tom arrived were cowering behind Hermione's chair.

It had been humiliating for a wizard to be held captive by a Muggle. For this, Tom made sure she would never be able to again.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

The dark wizard spat on the woman's unblinking face before turning to leave the building, magically sealing the door behind.

As Dumbledore had done with Tom's cupboard in his first visit, Voldemort set fire to the orphanage. However, this time, the flames would burn everything inside, and he would not stop it.

The clock struck midnight and began to chime the hours. Screams of burning children and neighbors who had come out of their homes to witness the fire mixed with the sound of the day's arrival.

The soft, melodic voice of a woman long gone from his life whispered in his head.

"_Happy Birthday, Tom."_


End file.
